


Tumbling Down, Down, Down

by TheArchaeologist



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Character Death, Death, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Quill, Ravager Funeral, Team as Family, injuries, kragdu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 15:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArchaeologist/pseuds/TheArchaeologist
Summary: There had been a cave in, because of course there had.Can be seen as Kraglin/Yondu if you want.





	Tumbling Down, Down, Down

There had been a cave in, because of course there had.

It was what the more superstitious members of the crew referred to as 'The Ravager’s Revenge'. They said when the dumb luck that followed you around, keeping your hands quick and your legs swift, runs out, it turns around and gives you the full Ravager treatment. Every bad thing you did, every kill, every item stolen, builds up meaning that when The Ravanger’s Revenge grabs you, you get a punishment equal to your deeds. 

Kraglin wasn't the superstitious type, but he knew better that to say it out loud. He wasn't going to tempt fate.

The only way to lessen the blow was to respect your ships and your guns, he had been told. You look after them, they look after you. But apparently he hadn’t been doing a good job of that, because here he was.

He couldn't feel anything, which was surprising considering the amount of rubble pressing down on him. It was enough to block up the entire cave, and every so often something would come loose and crumble its way down. Kraglin kinda wished something would fall down and hit him in the head. It would be quicker than waiting here, slowly bleeding out as his entire lower half was crushed.

Breathing wasn't really a thing. At best he could manage some weak gulps; at worst the air would barely reach his windpipe. 

Kraglin blinked dully and his arms, sprayed out in front of him, drifted out of focus. There were smudges of blue all over the ground by his hands, where he had tried to move some of the boulders. Somehow he had lost his gloves, so they had been bare as he pushed against the rock, the sharp edged cutting into his hands. They had stung with pain then, but now there was nothing more than a mild itch.

It was amazingly quiet in the cave. There were no sounds of critters running around, no bats, no splashes of distant running water. Apart from the occasional tumble of rocks and his own wheezing breaths, there was nothing. People could never know you were down here. You could scream, and shout, and cause a cave in, and they could still continue their daily lives none the wiser. There was a whole town above him, completely unaware of the world down here. What was it Peter said to him once? ‘If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound’? 

"-lin!"

Hmm?

The floor was vibrating in a rhythm, as if his head was laid out on a steadily beating drum. Or a heartbeat. The noise of leather rubbing against leather drew closer, as well as the sound of someone panting. The walls around him echoed. It felt strange.

"Krags!"

Oh. _Oh_ , right, someone was looking for him. 

As his vision darkened, he wanted to tell them they were too late, but his tongue felt thick in his dry mouth, and be didn't have the energy to try and work it.

"Fuck, Krags..."

Something hit the ground by his head, and hands shook his shoulder. Fingers dug into his neck. There wasn't much to find.

"Kraglin?"

He groaned, and it was quiet and tired and it hurt the back of his throat, and the person went still. Slowly, rough hands scooped up his head and laid it onto crossed legs. After a moment, a somewhat awkward hand rested on his head.

"You did a good job, managed to get them all our tail." The voice said, gruff and real scratchy. Kraglin knew it from somewhere, but his exhausted mind couldn't put a face to the voice. 

He tried to groan again. Nothing happened. His lungs wheezed.

The hand patted him.

"Ya did good, Krags..."

As the world bled away Kraglin allowed himself to take a little bit of comfort from the hand running through his hair. Hopefully they would be able to break the news to his Captain and survive.

......

The funeral was pathetic. One lone Ravager ship spitting out rounds of red into the silence of space as the ashes drifted away into the empty stars. There should have been at least five other ships out there, shooting off their colours. Did they really hate him that much that they couldn't even show up to Kraglin's funeral? Were they really going to punish Kraglin for his mistake? He had been a part of their crew too, when he was young and all elbows and knees. Were they really, _really_ that petty?

Yondu grit his teeth, refusing to leave the bridge as the others left for the customary drunken brawl that followed the cremation. Like shit he was leaving Kraglin out there on his own. 

"Yondu?"

Quill materialised next to him, staring out the window. The boy glanced at him and fell silent, one hand thumbing the buttons of his precious Walkman. He was wearing Kraglin's jacket. 

They both gazed out the window, watching the glittery colour of Kraglin disperse. Yondu saluted, beating his hand over his heart with more force than necessary. Peter copied the motion.

They both stood before the stars, watching as Kraglin floated away from their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I’ve hit a writer’s block. I just needed to write Kraglin dying again, ok?


End file.
